The Puppet Crown

by Harold MacGrath

  CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL

  On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happenedvarious things of moment.

  At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed froma window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and soughthis bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds,lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many timeshad he contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thoughtand toil on?

  Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that starof hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory.Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederickhad disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory couldno longer be harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. TheEnglishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to thefour ends of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stoodalone; the two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on hispillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of thearchbishop.

  All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels pacednoiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king wasresting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed.The Captain of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in theante-room.

  Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Nowand then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he heldthe pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by thetapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes.On, on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additionalpages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into animpenetrable smile.

  There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality ofthe university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult.Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiershad not been niggard with their sabers.

  A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly withhis hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded.

  "Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. "Allthis must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal libertyis endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancientprivileges are being laughed at. It must end." This declaration wasgreeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappingsof earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must wegive way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to theoutlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not paradebecause the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are thecuirassiers?" Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They areFrenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Arewe or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand byand see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!

  "Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of ourinnocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right hadAustria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the bloodand give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of AlbrechtIII of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawfulsovereign. He understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment wasslightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be reliedon; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. Itserved to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet."And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Molderingaway in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in thehistory of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers arenobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and hisvoice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. Theywatch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenariesriot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army iswith us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching thematch. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage.Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow forour rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come intoher own!"

  He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguingwent on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselvesto be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencingthe same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him formaking an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.

  While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than themajority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, andlounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled andwrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, thecorners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered withred stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.

  "Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimlyyellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your devilish vinegars andscums."

  Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold,Johann, gold?"

  "Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noiseabout?" with a gesture, toward the hall.

  "The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damnedcuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took sideswith the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse."Tokayer?"

  "No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game erethe week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out ofthe palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with hisfist.

  "Who?"

  "Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Isit play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall.

  "Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look willanswer the purpose."

  Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreedwith the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room.and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stulershook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead ofsipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.

  "Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If thestudents were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.

  "You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was offsomewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine.There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."

  Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon thesullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one ofreckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.

  "A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I willbe in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops haveceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when itbreaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will besacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There willbe loot, old war dog!"

  Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious day."

  "A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt."

  "If he lives," judiciously.

  "Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes."

  "And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and thepeasant girl?"

  Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding."

  "And the princess?"

  "A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be."

  "The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" Stulerexclaimed. "I know of no king--"

  Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was nogentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and thatfor your life! Do you understand, my friend?"

  "Gott in--"

  "Do you understand?" fiercely.

  "Yes, yes!" Stul
er wiped his face with his apron.

  "Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,"nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend, your till will have novulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold."

  "And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was notof the usual kind.

  Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.

  The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that hecould not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzledhead a negative shake. "I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,Johann," he murmured. "Gott, what is going on? The princess was not towed, to be sure, but the duchess passed--a king besides--"

  "Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a daringenterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come withme into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted noroverheard." He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. "Come!"commanded Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down thetallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught upanother bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled theglass and set it down before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beadyeyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper towithdraw his gaze.

  "Well?" said Stuler, uneasily.

  "I need you." Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. "Yourstorehouse on the lake is empty?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess doesnot conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask noquestions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is anabduction."

  "A nasty business," was Stuler's comment. "You have women to thank foryour present occupation, Johann."

  "Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown."

  "Eh?" Stuler's eyes bulged.

  "A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleibergto-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osiansfall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed,if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom'sindebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry,but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marrywill be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman'sskirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad tomarry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her fathermay die in peace."

  "And this king?" in a whisper.

  "You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do yourecollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden,once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiledfor corresponding with France?"

  Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I recollect.He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, thendisappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South Americanrepublic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deepwater."

  "For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousandcrowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed frommy pocket into yours. It is politics."

  "But the sacking of the town?"

  "A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that isto be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing fordefending ourselves."

  "And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to poundit into a state of lucidity. "Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can seenothing."

  "Beauvais."

  "Beauvais!" Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.

  "Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of hisreestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us,I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blamehim?"

  "The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house."

  "Favorable or not, it is nothing to us."

  "Well, well, it's a thousand crowns," philosophically.

  "That's the sentiment," laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, itis not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votresante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what was left of the wine."And then, it is purely patriotic in us," with a deceitful smile.

  "The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to beplayed."

  "Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied byher eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?"

  "Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not beenough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--"

  "Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the menfrom gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her Highness that way,passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before thecuirassiers even dream of the attempt?"

  "After all, I'd rather the duchess."

  "We can not all be kings and queens." Johann got up and slapped Stulerfamiliarly on the shoulder. "Forget not the gold, the yellow gold;little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend."

  Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of theancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door,and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. Heturned into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots.Some one discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up byothers, and there were numerous calls for a speech.

  As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, fiveyears gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. Hehad fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled fromthe university for beating a professor who had objected to his conductin the presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity.To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be verygood or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had givenhim the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and holdin readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johannreceived his meed of applause.

  "And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too," cried oneof the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fattedcalves."

  This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and hesmacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in theroyal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. Thestudents considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog,not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in lawis called the benefit of a doubt.

  After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most ofall was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew hisfailings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower.They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they wouldnot lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose lawwas only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back themad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and hewanted to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would berevenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers dancedbefore his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money,but these had fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned toStuler.

  "Stuler, how much will you advance me," he asked, "on a shotgun worthone hundred crowns?"

  "A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten."

  Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell itfor seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the moneyto-night."

  "If you want wine--" began Stuler.

  "I want money."

  Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what yousay, I'll see what I can do."

  "In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and adash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilarationof the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he wasever in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the causeof
it--drink. But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf,brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those whocould use him. He remained standing in the doorway, brooding.

  At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a blackshadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the streetopposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning.The night patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, andsoon all was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. Thestreet was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeblelight which beamed from the office windows.

  Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hearthe ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had apremonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. Hewould redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser.If his numbers failed him..... No matter. He determined to cross theRubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernousalley, shortly to loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. Hecounted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. Thatwas the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls,stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except themonotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and colder.

  Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to therequired height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. Hemounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In anothermoment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was thedarkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydeyto his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. Hecarefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object whichmet his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of theflame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was thereany sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one hadpilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishmanreturned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, oneof which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions.

  So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize andthe whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. Helooked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His handclosed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw backthe bed coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but becausehe could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he liftedthe mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he sawwas a gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crownswere inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle intoit, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no lightwould pierce the corridor.

  "This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions,"he thought. "If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crownsare not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece ofgunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crownsare for the picking."

  He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly.He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light--andagain cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he pluckedforth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There wasa slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolledabout. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result.Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hearthem jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returnedthe leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to thecylinder-shaped papers on the floor.

  For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in thewavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings ofsteel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, thesignatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway acrosseach crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Fourmillions of crowns.... He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.

  He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! Ahundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts ofthe green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. Therewas no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will.Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these werehis. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundredthousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetarydenominations; in all countries it was wealth.

  Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. Avoice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!" But reason,though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futilityof attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently.His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice,in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his graspand scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundredthousand crowns!

  He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilton the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed withoutmishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round hisheart gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approachingsteps. Nearer and nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard andmade straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the recliningladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed abelated serving maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. ButJohann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill atthe roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. Buthe waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the serving maid for thefright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed hissteps toward Stuler's.

  "The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels,the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been thereyet! A hundred thousand crowns!"

  It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture underfoot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times;but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! Helaughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convincehimself that he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians?To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest thehundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not betoo much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agentwould not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as hehad promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundredthousand. He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, towardthe palace, toward all that signified the past..... A hundred thousandcrowns!